The Mortal Diaries
by DiamondLeather08
Summary: Adalyssa Phoenixworth is one of the best Shadowhunters of her age. When demons attack Alicante, she is forced to escape to a place called Mystic Falls. Rated M for future themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

**The Nightmare of a Little Sister**

_Deception._

_Burning._

_Betrayal._

_Mystic._

_Arrow._

_Pale faces._

_Purple wings._

_Death._

_Death._

_Death._

I snapped awake. My eyes were wide with alert only to see the darkness of my room. I was sweating, entangled in the cream-colored sheets as the dizzying aftermath of the nightmare still buzzed through my thoughts. I'd been having the same nightmare for days now. Every detail was always the same, but yet it never made any sense. It was just random thoughts jumbled into one big mess that made no sense to me. No sense at all.

That's what scared me so much. It wasn't the images themselves that were frightening; it was the fact that I had no idea what they meant. The unknown, the anonymous… that's what scares me the most.

I slithered out form the coils of sheets that had wrapped themselves around me. I ran a small hand through my hair as I concentrated on pushing the nightmare from my mind. _It was just a stupid dream_, I thought as I walked along the cool wooden floor to my high bedroom window. _It doesn't mean anything_.

I pulled back the lacy curtain that covered the window, revealing a spectacular view of Alicante. I traced the lacy material in my fingertips. In my eyes, everything looked better when the sun went down. The houses were illuminated by witchlight from within them. The streetlamps, also lit up by witchlight, cast irregular shadows in every direction. The glass from the demon towers gleamed with silver protection from the stars that could never fade, never dissolve, and never die. The demon towers made me smile. It reminded me of the fact that as long as I was in Alicante, I was safe, invincible even. And with all of the incidents that were happening with Valentine, I needed to feel a sense of protection.

I released the lace from my hands. I had collected myself again, after I let something as silly as a dream get to me. What the hell was wrong with me? I'm a Shadowhunter, a Nephilim. I can kill demons without fear but nearly lose my marbles when it comes to a stupid dream? What kind of a Shadowhunter am I?

Still in the dark, I moved silently to the other side of the room where my tall dresser proudly stood. I opened the drawer that was third from the top, pulling out my fighting gear. I was in these clothes so often that these were the clothes that I felt most comfortable in. They gave me a sense of being strong, like I could strike down anything that came in my way.

I pulled on the familiar articles of clothing. I had the feel of each piece memorized, from the black leather pants to the silky but skin-tight tank top to the rough black belt to my custom-made knee-high leather boots. I adored these boots more than anything in the world. They could hold so many daggers and weapons and they were so easy to fight in. I treasured them the way a vampire valued the night.

I glanced over my shoulder, looking at myself in the full-length mirror. This was the Adalyssa Phoenixworth that I knew. Her dark hair— only a few shades lighter than her black fighting gear— fell in waves halfway down her back, clashing with her porcelain skin. Her eyes were bright, golden brown, resembling cracked amber. This was the girl that made demons shudder. This was the girl that wasn't afraid of nightmares or things that went bump in the night. Hell, this was the girl that _killed_ whatever went bump in the night.

My bedroom door slammed open then. I didn't jump, but instead continued examining myself in the mirror.

"Don't you ever knock?" I asked, an annoyed tone to my voice. "I could've been changing." I turned my eyes to see the tall blonde in the doorway.

"If you'd been changing, I would've run out of here screaming," the blonde male said simply. His eyes swept over me. "Why the hell are you in fighting gear?"

"Why the hell do you care?" I retorted. He rolled his navy blue eyes.

"Can't I ever get a straight answer out of you?"

"Nope."

He scoffed, shaking his shaggy blonde head as he leaned against the doorframe. He mumbled something that sounded like, "Why didn't I ask for a little brother?"

"Logan, please. Your life would be completely incomplete without me," I said.

Logan is my older brother by three years, and, from what I've been told, looks exactly like my mother. Not that I would know. My mother died twelve years ago, back when I was four. I can barely remember what she looked like, but when I concentrate hard enough, I can see a blurry image of a beautiful woman with a halo of golden hair. And before that picture can clear, it's gone.

"Maybe so. But it would be a lot easier," he said with a half smile. "But, seriously, why are you in your gear?"

I sighed. Logan and I never had that brother-sister teasing rivalry that I saw on television when I visited Paris. He was more like a fatherly figure that was constantly trying to protect me. And, frankly, it gets a little annoying. I'm sixteen, not five.

"Cause I wanted to," I said, my boots making quiet thuds as I walked towards him. Even with the boots, Logan towered over me. Granted I was only five foot one and he was five eleven…

"It was the nightmare again, wasn't it?" Logan said. His blue eyes searched my golden ones. I didn't say anything. He knew the answer already, so why waste my breath?

"Look, Ada, it was just a dream. It's not real. It can't hurt you," he said, his large hand rubbing my arm. He'd said those words to me since I was six. I'd run into his room countless times with my latest nighttime horror, and he'd always say the same words to me.

"I know, Logan. I'm not a little girl anymore," I said, squirming out of his soothing touch. Instead, Logan wrapped me in a big bear hug.

"You're still my little sister," he said as I suffocated.

"That's nice. I'm hungry," I said, strategically maneuvering out of the hug. I swerved into the hallway, which was dim with witchlight. I heard Logan sigh.

"Well, Éline's gone. The adults are in the Gard, and she didn't leave food," Logan said as he followed me down the grand staircase. This staircase always made me feel like a princess walking down to a royal ball. It was fashioned of hand-polished, hand-cut marble. But I wasn't a princess. I was a Shadowhunter, and Shadowhunters don't attend royal balls.

Logan followed me into the high-windowed kitchen, where I rummaged around for food. Logan plopped himself down in a cushioned chair by the fireplace, twisting his stele in the firelight as I tore through the cabinets. All I found was a bowl of stale-tasting nuts. Éline really needed to get more food in this house.

Éline is our aunt, our mother's sister. She took us in after our parents died. She did her best to be a motherly figure to the both of us, even though she was twenty-six. She was young and gorgeous, a well-known Shadowhunter that had an extremely strong influence on the Clave. I could never decide if that was because she was beautiful or cunning or both.

I threw the foul-tasting nuts into the fireplace. They made a low pop, then a crackle as they burned. Logan looked at me through his thick black lashes, and I wondered why he wasn't up at the Gard.

"Why aren't you at the Gard?" I asked. Logan made a face.

"Éline wouldn't let me."

"Why? You're of age. You're an adult," I said.

"I tried explaining that to her. She wouldn't listen. She said something about I wouldn't understand. And that I have to keep an eye on you," he looked up at me, smirking. "So, I'm basically on babysitter duty."

"I don't need a babysitter!" I said, my voice echoing off the walls and rippling back at me.

"Ah, denial. The fact that you think you don't just _proves_ you need one," he said, his smirk growing into a crooked smile. I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

"Whatever. I'm gonna take a walk," I said, walking past my golden brother to the heavy door. I snatched my coat off the coat hanger, pulling it on. The coat had been a present from Éline a few years back. It was a deep indigo color that went all the way to my knees.

"In your fighting gear?" he asked, arching a perfect eyebrow as he twirled his stele between his index fingers. "Don't you think people will get a little, I don't know, _suspicious_? A teen girl, more importantly _you_, aimlessly walking around in fighting gear?"

"Yes. Do you think I give a damn?"

"No," he said, his eyes not leaving his stele. "But I do. Don't go out tonight."

I gave a frustrated sigh. "I'll be fine, Logan."

"Will you just listen to me for once?"

"I am listening. I'm also telling you that I'll be fine."

"Whatever, Ada. I don't feel like arguing with you. Do whatever you want," Logan said. He wasn't trying to hide the irritation in his tone. I cringed on the inside. I hated and loved these moments. Love because Logan got off my back. And hate because he was pissed off at me, and Logan's wrath could last days at a time.

"Fine. I will," I said simply. My hand was on the golden door handle when Logan spoke up again.

"I'm not waiting up for you," Logan called as I slipped out the classic-looking door into the night air. That was code for, "Adalyssa Phoenixworth, you'd better be back before I wake up."

**Author's Note:**

**This is my first time writing on this site, so please be kind! This is going to be a huge fan fiction involving The Vampire Diaries, The Mortal Instruments, and The Twilight Saga. I will openly accept constructive criticism, but please, no negative comments! I hope I roped some of you in and chapter two will be up very soon.**

**XoXo,**

**Charlotte**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Just One**

I walked down the even cobblestone pathway in our small backyard, which was really a garden that I'd been working on over the years. I'd filled it with thousands of herbs and flowers both magical and ordinary. There was even a gazebo I'd convinced Éline to allow me to have. But neither the garden nor the gazebo was my destination tonight. I wanted to be on the streets. The streets were where I'd picked up notable fighting skills and information about both Valentine and the Clave. Some would call it eavesdropping, but it was how I picked up information. Besides books that is, but books didn't do a lot of good these days. It was only through conversation that I'd heard about Clarissa Fray.

I opened the heavy gate, stepping across the perimeter of the mansion's backyard and into the territory of the streets. Clarissa Fray was the daughter of Jocelyn Fairchild and Valentine Morgenstern himself. And, according to what I'd heard, she was Jace Wayland's sister.

My boots were nearly soundless as I walked down the broad road. I knew Jace Wayland. He was the top Shadowhunter for our age, and I came in a close second. He and I had dated a few years back. It never worked out, and we went our separate ways. But I never would have even dreamed that he was Valentine's son.

Everyone seemed to do that. Clarissa, or Clary as everyone called her, was always called Jocelyn's daughter. But Jace was referred to as Valentine's son. That was what I didn't understand. Why wasn't Jace called Jocelyn's son? What made him any different?

I made a sharp turn that brought me to a narrow road, but not an empty one. Leaning against one of the streetlights was a teen boy of seventeen. He smiled as soon as he saw me.

"I was starting to think you weren't gonna show up," he smiled, his perfectly white teeth looked even more white against his olive skin.

"Please, Jack. When did I not show up?" I smiled back as I walked over to him. Jack and I met as often as we could, even if it was just once a week. He was one of the few warlocks that were allowed into the city, and one of my closest friends. And, of course, Logan and Éline despised my friendship with him. That was why we met in secret. He pulled me into a hug, his chin resting on the top of my head.

"Why are you in fighting gear?" Jack said, gently pulling away. I shook my head.

"Don't ask," I mumbled.

"Alright. Well, I have something for you," he said. Out of his black coat, that was even longer than mine, he pulled out a medium sized object. His gloved hands gave it to me, and I realized it was a book. The black leatherette was smooth beneath my fingers, and on the front was a golden carving of a beautiful phoenix. I flipped through the ancient-looking pages. They were all blank.

"Blank?" I looked up at Jack in surprise. He chuckled.

"Of course. It's a diary," he said.

"Oh," I muttered, feeling rather stupid. He ran a hand through his tousled, midnight black hair.

"It's from the thirteenth century. Magnus Bane had no use for it, so he gave it to me," he said.

"When in hell did you ever get in touch with Magnus Bane?" I asked.

"We're old friends," he said. He wrapped his arm around my waist, walking down the road with me as he spoke.

"You see, warlocks have different ways of communicating with each other. It's kind of like a different language that's full of…" he trailed off as he searched for the right word.

"Symbols?" I asked.

"Exactly," he nodded, sliding his gloved hand into mine. "He asked me if I had any use for it, but I thought you would like it."

"I do. I love it," I smiled, looking down at the book. My thumb traced over the spread wings of the phoenix. My eyes then flickered up to find his chocolaty brown ones.

"But do you know what I don't like?" I asked with a playful smirk.

"Pray thee tell," he said, smirking back. I opened my pink lips, but a scream rang through the night.

"What the hell was—"

A steely chittering pierced the night from behind us. I knew that insectile sound all too well. Everything left my mind except for one thought: demon. I turned around even though every molecule in my body screamed at me to run.

Time seemed to slow. This was impossible. We were in Alicante. There had never been any sort of demon in Alicante. _Ever_. I stared in absolute shock at the huge, slimy demon. It was completely structure less, and double rows of teeth ran along its oblong-shaped body. It slithered forward in an oozing, boneless way.

A crackling, electric blue light slammed into the Behemoth demon. That was when time sped up again. The demon released a low, angry chittering sound again. Jack grabbed my arm, and we were running in the opposite direction. Behemoth demons weren't usually dangerous, but they were as of now. They eat everything—people included. And, of course, they were immune to seraph blades, which was the only real weapon I had right now besides a few daggers that were always stored in my boots. I stopped short, shoving the diary into my coat, yanking the daggers out of my boots. I shot a fierce look at Jack.

"Cover me."

Before he could answer, I'd launched myself at the demon, daggers slicing into its slimy, mucus-like flesh. I'd fought Behemoth demons before, and I knew that daggers would be nearly ineffective. These kinds of demons could heal themselves, but when they did so they oozed some of their energy. The only way to kill it was to continue wounding it until it could no longer heal, and it would take a great deal of work to kill it with daggers.

The demon let out a noise that could be described as a scream. It lurched forward with a quickness that would have been unexpected for its body type. But I was quicker. I slashed across its body, yanking out a good amount of its teeth. It gave a painful chittering as it healed and lurched forward again. I wrenched both daggers into its disgusting flesh as a bundle of crackling blue light collided with the demon's side. The demon's blood wasn't a green color like one would think; instead, it was black, pouring from its open wounds.

I sliced my daggers further as it started to heal again. A dark, shadowy bolt sliced through the demon's skin. I pulled the daggers out with a sudden quickness as the same shadowy bolts continued rapidly. The demon advanced on me, attempting to sink its teeth into its attacker. Dancing backwards, I slashed out at it and missed.

I cursed under my breath. I flung the piercing blade towards the ugly thing, watching with triumph as the curved blade sank deep into its tissues. The Behemoth made a mad swipe with his teeth. Dodging its razor fangs, I grabbed the dagger that was buried into its body. With a twist, I jerked the dagger out. Crackling shadow bolts zoomed past my head. The Behemoth was getting weaker; I could see it.

With a high jump, I was sliding down the Behemoth demon, my daggers ripping open its back as I fell to the ground. It let out a screaming noise again. It twirled around at the speed of lightning, burying its teeth into my shoulder. The pain was like serrated knives plunging into my back. I held back a scream, forcing my dagger behind me, sinking it as far as I could into its body. With a burst of flames from behind me, the Behemoth demon gave a low chittering, then exploded into a puddle of steaming green fluid.

"Ada!" I heard Jack call from a reasonable distance. I'd been so absorbed in killing the Behemoth I'd forgotten about Jack. I heard his fast footsteps racing towards me. My daggers slipped out of my hands, falling to the road with a loud metallic sound. I winced, my hand sliding up to my wounded shoulder. Several of the jagged teeth had become implanted into the gash, which was deeper and bloodier than I'd originally thought. I pulled my hand from my shoulder. It was black— blood, made dark with the dim light. I struggled to stand. Pain was searing through my body like fire.

As soon as he reached me, Jack grabbed my arm gently, helping me to stand.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I said, pulling my arm out of his grasp.

"Your shoulder... He bit you," Jack observed aloud, flabbergasted, as I started ripping the teeth out of my shoulder.

"It's fine, Jack. Nothing I can't handle," I said— my jaw was locked with pain. The demon teeth made a low clattering sound as they hit the alley.

"Let me help," Jack said as I ripped out the last fang. "I can heal you."

_Healing_, I thought. _I need an_ iratze. The bite mark was already gruesome; the jagged teeth had made it even more so. I thought back to where I'd last left my stele. I'd left it in its usual place: my coat pocket.

"Healing can wait," I said, picking up the jagged daggers I'd dropped. Blood oozed down my back, probably soaking through my coat. "We need to get out of the open. We're too exposed for another attack."

"Princewater Street," Jack said. "We can go to Princewater Street."

"Are you crazy?" I shot him a disbelieving look. Princewater Street could be considered the Main Street of Alicante. "No one can see this! They won't believe us if we said there's a demon in Alicante! And there are elders there! Children—"

"Sixteen and seventeen is still considered a child. You and I are still considered children and—"

"You're five hundred and two."

"My point _is_," Jack said, sounding a little annoyed that I wouldn't let him finish, "if we can fight and successfully kill a Behemoth, imagine what even more of us can do."

"You have it in your head that there's more than one demon. What if that was the only one?"

"Ada, you're a Shadowhunter. You should know best of all that there's never just one."

**Author's Note:**

**Is the story moving to fast? Too slow? not enough detail? Please message/comment and tell me your thoughts! Anyway, I've decided to make a little chart to explain Ada (I do this with all of my stories...)**

**Full name: Adalyssa Fleur Phoenixworth.**

**Age: 16.**

**Looks: very long, wavy dark hair; golden brown eyes; pale skin; about 5'4.**

**Interesting Qualities: likes rebelling, enjoys writing and photography, favorite color is green, doesn't mind being alone, a bit superstitious.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down**

As much as I hated to admit, Jack was right. There never was just one demon. Demons were like wolves; they traveled in packs. And if there was one, the rest of the pack couldn't be far behind. We could barely kill a Behemoth. If more came along, which they eventually would, we wouldn't make it out alive.

"Fine. We'll go to Princewater. But if anyone asks, it was _not_ a demon that caused this," I gestured to my injured shoulder. "I don't care what bizarre story you make up but it was _not. A. Demon_." Venom was dangerously laced into my words.

"Sure. Whatever you say," Jack mumbled. "But why the hell are you so uptight?" Did he _really_ just ask that? Did we not just battle a Behemoth and barely kill it?

I stood up onto my tiptoes, so my face was inches away from his. "Because there are _demons_ in _Alicante_," I hissed. I brushed by him, my uninjured shoulder gently bumping into his. I walked in long, quick strides towards Princewater Street. Jack hurried to catch up to me.

"Look, Ada, I'm just as freaked out about this as you are," he said. "But you need to think logically."

"I just want to know how they could've possibly got _in_," I said, thinking aloud.

"So do I," Jack said in a quieter tone.

"I mean, the demon towers, they've protected us for thousands of years," I said. "They can't just _fail—_"

"Shhh," Jack said. He stopped abruptly. I stopped walking, ears perked. He looked at me in a mystified way.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what—"

My stomach clenched as a blood-piercing scream rang through the night. I'd never heard a scream like that before in my life. That was the scream of pure terror and helplessness. A faint, smoky smell made my nose burn and my eyes tear. Jack and I glanced at each other, the same expression written on both of our faces.

"Fire," we whispered in unison. That was when we started running down the winding road. We followed the sound of the ugly screaming that was growing louder and louder as we sprinted and weaved through the streets. My chest heaved as I sharply turned corners, trying to keep up with Jack; he was quicker than me. There were metal stairs at the end of this street, ones that led up to Princewater. We were just silhouettes as we bolted to the top of the stairs. We looked around—and stared.

Everything was a hazy blur. There was a huge stirring crowd, people racing crazily through the street. But there wasn't just people. Demons—two or three dozen of them, maybe even more—were clawing and snapping, swirling themselves around the people. Bodies littered the ground. Some were torn right in half. Blood oozed onto the street, staining it a color that looked black against the moonlight. People were screaming, calling each other's names, desperately trying to find their loved ones.

The air was marked with scarlet, full with the smell of burning. Doors were being thrown open as people darted out of houses this way and that—they stopped short, with their eyes wide in horror, when they realized the streets were crawling with demons. It was like a giant deadly tidal wave had invaded Alicante.

My stomach lurched as I fought the urge to throw up. Alicante was the only safe place. All we had now was nowhere.

"Ada, watch out!" Jack yelled, his voice yanking me out of my thoughts. We lunged away as a Scorpious demon attempted to take a bite out of us. It gave a screeching hiss and swung its barbed tail at us. I screamed. I screamed? There was only one reason I'd ever screamed and that reason was pain. But I had just screamed in fear, the one thing I thought I would never feel.

Jack yanked me out of the way, gripping my wrist and forcing me to run through the crowd of terrified people. I wanted to believe this was a bad dream. I heard a terrified woman scream, but it was cut short as a demon separated her head from her body. This wasn't a dream. This was a real life nightmare, and I wanted it to be over.

I saw Logan's face in my mind. Logan—he was back at the house! Had they invaded the house? Could he have escaped? My breath caught in my throat. What if he was dead? And Éline, was she alive?

Jack stopped abruptly, yanking me against a stone wall. He still had a death grip on my hand.

"What the hell are you stopping for?!" I screamed at him. A shrill demon cry sent steely sharp shivers up my spine.

"I have to get you out of here, Ada!"

"_What_?!" Yes, I was terrified. Yes, I could hardly think straight. But I was still a Shadowhunter. I was still the same Adalyssa Phoenixworth, and no amount of demons in Alicante could change that. I had to fight them off, or die trying, right? The Shadowhunter inside me told me to argue and scream at him, to charge at the nearest demon. But the teenage little girl was scared, and wished that she could suddenly become invisible.

Jack's hand slammed his hand onto the wall. The stone vanished into a swirling, ice-colored orb. It was small, but big enough for my tiny body to slip through. I gave Jack a the look of 'have-you-lost-your-mind?'

"A portal?!" I shouted.

"You need to get out of here! I can't let anything happen to you!" Jack yelled. "It'll take you to a safe place! I'll come for you when this is all over, when it's safe for you to come back!"

"No! I'm not going to leave you here alone!"

"I'm not giving you a choice!" Jack said. For a moment, I saw sadness in his eyes, like he knew he wasn't going to make it out alive. He blinked, and the sadness was gone. His hand dove into his coat, and he yanked something out. It was a silvery pendant strung on a piece of black rope. He shoved it into my hand.

"It'll protect you!" was all he said.

"Jack—"

"I'll come back for you, I promise!" he said. I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to tell him that I could take care of myself. I wanted him to close the portal. I wanted to tell him that we could both make it out of here alive.

But I was never able to do any of that. Before I could even blink, Jack grabbed my waist and pushed me backwards. I screamed as I fell into the portal. I struggled against it, trying to yank myself back to Alicante, back to Jack. But the portal cocooned itself around me, yanking me away from all the dangers of my demon-infested home. The portal felt warm. Warm? Yes, somehow the portal was like a very big, very blue blanket. It was soothing somehow, like it was draining all of the fight left in me. I closed my eyes, and let the portal take me.

**Author's Note:**

**Wow! Sorry I've been gone for so long! Writer's block is a horrid thing... anyway, what a chapter! I don't understand how Ada doesn't swoon over Jack. Such a chivalrous boy he is... Anyhow, I promise I won't leave you all hanging for months and I'll have chapter four up soon! Where will she be transported to? Well, I mean, I guess it's kinda obvious but what's gonna happen isn't!**

**XoXo,**

**Charlotte**

**Also, thank you to ProfRumbleroar for my first review:) And thank you to all others who are reading/following The Mortal Diaries!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**I Hate Vampires**

My body slammed onto the leafy, hard ground. I groaned in pain, dizzy and disoriented from the portal. I'd never used a portal before, and I didn't intend to ever again. My head pounded. I felt like someone just smacked me upside the head with a bat.

I heard the portal close with an obnoxious pop. One arm pushed me up while the other cradled my thudding head. My arm was screaming in pain. I glanced down—my hand was covered in a liquid that looked black in the night. Blood. I opened my hand to find the pendant Jack had given me embedded into my palm. I was holding it so tightly I literally shoved it halfway through my own flesh.

"Fuck," I whispered, yanking the silver out and biting my lip as pain seared through my hand, winding its way up my arm. I glared at the necklace, dangling it between two fingers. It was dripping blood, and the thought of destroying it crossed my mind. But Jack had given this to me for a reason. "It'll protect you," he'd said.I sighed and flung the necklace around my neck. It hung just above my breasts, and seemed to catch the light even though there wasn't any.

I stood up, dusting myself off. I was a bloody mess. My coat was drenched from the wound that the Behemoth kindly gave me. I was covered in dirt, and blood dripped off my fingertips. I plunged my good hand into my coat, snatching my stele. I pulled up my sleeve, exposing my arm. I carved an _iratze_ into my wrist. Immediately my wounds started to heal, the _iratze _sucking the pain out of me.

A nearby twig snapped. My ears perked up. I'd been so caught up with my wounds that I hadn't observed my surroundings until now. I was standing in the middle of a dark, dense forest. Inky trees loomed over me, their curving branches encasing me inside the woods. Another twig snapped. I brushed my boot. The daggers were in there. I hadn't remembered putting them back there. I guess I'd collected them after the Behemoth injury.

Something was out there. The necklace gave a sharp pulse. I didn't know who or what, but I wasn't going to play sitting duck and find out. My legs moved in a fast-paced walk, almost a jog, my indigo coat sweeping up behind me. My ears listened attentively. All I heard was the crunching of leaves beneath my heavy boots. From what I heard, nothing was following me. But if there was one thing I knew, it was that demons were sneaky little bastards. And instinct told me to keep moving, for I was being stalked.

The necklace warmed against my skin, giving slight, rhythmic throbs. What the hell was it doing? My pace quickened as I wound my way through the mazes of trees. _Just keep moving forward_, I told myself. This forest had to end somewhere. Meanwhile, my necklace was growing hotter and was becoming quite uncomfortable.

I ignored my necklace. The real concern was if the forest would end quickly enough. I had a creeping feeling that whatever was stalking me was growing closer, getting ready to pounce. I broke out into a run. That was when I heard panting as my pursuer began to run as well. _Shit_.

I pushed my legs harder. My necklace was pulsing rapidly, in time with my racing heartbeat. I ducked under branches and made sharp turns around the trees, hoping to loose them.

A winding tree root caught onto my foot, making me stumble. I tripped into the tree, catching the trunk to keep from falling. I forced myself back up, my eyes darting around, searching for my stalker.

But there was no one. I didn't hear the heavy breathing anymore. But the necklace still pulsed rapidly, and was growing hotter and hotter by the second.

A man dropped out of the trees, and the necklace burned into my flesh. I screamed, trying to yank it off. It wouldn't budge.

"You have the most delicious blood I've ever smelt," the man hissed. He looked like a man gone mad. His hair was strewn all around his pale face. His eyes were deranged, and he was wearing ragged clothing. His mouth was turned up in a sickening smile, revealing sharp incisors. Vampire.

"Please, forgive me," he said. His eyes transformed to red. Blackened veins snaked their way down his face. His lips curled up.

"No, forgive me," I growled, yanking the daggers out of my boots. I swiped the sharp blades madly at him. He moved backwards quickly, dodging them, but I could tell he was clearly surprised. Stupid boy—he must've thought I was a mundane.

He grabbed my hand, his demonic face hissing loudly. I drove the other dagger into his stomach. He howled in pain, his eyes flashing with anger. He threw me backwards—he was stronger than I expected. My back slammed against a tree. I gave an, "Ugh," of pain.

The vampire grabbed my wrists, pinning them up against the tree. My necklace was burning furiously, melting into my flesh. I kneed him in the balls. He screamed in agony, and I kicked him backwards.

He doubled over onto the ground. I tried to yank my arms down, but he'd stabbed both my blades deep into the tree. I tugged on the handles with all my strength. I could feel them coming loose, but I could also see that the vampire was recovering from my kick.

He stood up, his red eyes full of rage. He didn't just want my blood anymore. He wanted to murder me. He wanted to make me suffer. I wretched the blades out of the tree.

"What's the matter, _tick_?" I taunted. "Trying to kill a little girl is too much for you?"

He shrieked in outrage and fury. He lunged at me. I went to stab him again and—missed. He swerved out of the dagger's way. Momentary shock took over my body. Hw could I swing and miss at point blank range? The vampire let out another growl, snapping me out of my thoughts. He grabbed my sides and threw me violently onto the ground, kicking my blades out of my hands. I was on my stomach, scrambling for my weapons. He attempted to stomp on my hand, but I pulled it out of the way just in time. I reached into my boots, grabbing the handle of my seraph blade. Before I could use it, he grabbed me by my neck, lifting me into the air. I flung my legs around furiously, trying to kick him. My seraph blade dropped onto the forest floor.

I gasped for air. He was strangling me. I tried to pry his hands away, but his grip was too strong.

"You should thank me," he snarled, "that I was the one that found you and not Silas."

His sharp vampire teeth slid down from his gums again. In a second he would be feeding on me. My necklace continued to burn me as the vampire's teeth closed in on my neck and—

He was decapitated. With a sharp whoosh of air, the vampire's head separated from his body and landed with a sickening thud on the forest floor. His body fell, limp and lifeless, and I fell to the floor with it.

Air had never tasted so sweet. I gulped it down, my screaming lungs eagerly drinking up the fresh oxygen. The vampire's head looked nightmarish. His eyes were still red and hungry, the ugly veins zigzagging in every direction, and those long teeth were, even in death, still ready to bite. I looked up at my rescuer. My eyes widened. My heart stopped beating, and completely dropped into my stomach.

"Oh, you have_ got_ to be kidding me…"

"I really hope that's not your thank you. I have better things to do than save you, you know," Jace Wayland said, his golden eyes fixed on his sword as he wiped off the vampire's blood with his sleeve. I rolled my eyes, gathering my weapons. He made a face, lifting the blade inches away from his face, inspecting it for any more blood. "I hate vampires," he murmured under his breath.

I scoffed. _I'm sure vampires aren't too fond of you either_, I thought, shoving my weapons back into my boots. "Thanks," I said, my voice not sounding thankful at all. "But I didn't need saving."

Jace raised a perfect eyebrow. "Really?"

I jerked my coat tighter around my shoulders. "I had everything under control."

Jace nodded sarcastically. "Ah. Of course. Having the vampire strangle you to death was all part of the plan, right? Wanted to give him a midnight snack? I did you a favor, princess. All you have to do is thank me."

I gave a short laugh. "Not likely. But you can do me a real favor now, Wayland," I said, my golden eyes locking onto his.

"And what would that be, Phoenixworth?"

"Shut up," I said, my shoulder purposefully smacking his as I strode by him. This was just my luck. Not even an hour that I arrive into some strange place I get stalked, attacked by a vampire, and narrowly escape death only to have my ex-boyfriend as my savior. My very arrogant, very obnoxious, very annoying ex-boyfriend who thought he was the master of everything. Conceited little bastard.

"So, where exactly are we going?" Jace asked from behind me. I didn't turn around, or even glance back in his direction.

"There is no we, Jace. Now go away," I said. Off in the distance, I heard the honking of a car horn. There was a road close by, which would eventually lead to civilization. Mundane civilization, but civilization nonetheless.

"Go away? You're kidding, right?" Jace said, his long legs catching up to me. "You're obviously dead without me."

I wanted to slap him. "I can handle myself just fine without you," I growled.

"If it wasn't for me, you'd be dead, Phoenixworth," Jace said, and I could hear the annoyance rising in his tone.

"Actually, I'd probably be just fine," I growled. "I'm one of the best Shadowhunters for our age."

"And who is _the best_ Shadowhunter for our age?" Jace pointed his index finger at himself, and faked surprise. "Oh, that's right. Me! So if I were you, Ada, I'd shut your trap and accept that we're in this together."

"Where are your little friends?" I glanced at him. "The vampire, the warlock, the other Shadowhunters… your sister," I added. "Why don't you go run along and play with them and leave the big work to the people who can handle it, hm?"

I hurried my pace, the sounds of the passing cars growing louder. I wanted to be away from him. I let out a yelp of surprise as an iron grip grabbed my arm, jerking me backwards.

I was face-to-face with Jace, and he had both of my arms in a firm hold. I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was about as successful as a mouse trying to fight a lion.

"You listen to me, Adalyssa Phoenixworth, and you listen well. I don't know how I ended up here, and I don't know how you did either. All I remember is I was watching Alicante burning, and then I woke up here. And I don't know where Clary is—hell, I don't even know where _we _are! All I know is that you're the only Shadowhunter I've got right now, and I'm sure as hell not about to make friends with a bunch of mundanes. And to top it off, there's vampires around here, which means that demons and werewolves can't be too far behind so whether we like it or not, we're in this together."

His eyes, the same color as mine, were boring into my soul. I'd never seen this side of Jace before. Usually he'd taunt me with witty retorts and irritate me with clever one-liners. But instead he was spilling how he felt, which was a very un-Jace thing to do. And I sensed that some part of him—though he wouldn't admit it even on his deathbed—was scared. He was scared for Clary, he was scared for Alicante, and he was scared for himself.

Part of me yelled to leave him, to take his sword and walk away, even use it against him if he tried to resist. Huh. Seemed like a good plan. But the other part, the stronger one, pitied him. Yes, he was vain and irksome, but I couldn't just _leave_ him. Besides, maybe he'd come in handy. I mean, if we run into a vampire again all I have to do is run faster than him.

I sighed. "Fine, whatever," his eyes brightened a bit and he released his hold on me. "But here's a little warning: if you turn into Jackass Jace, I _will_ dump your sorry ass off at the nearest clan of vampires."

Jace opened his mouth to make a smart-ass comment. I inclined my head in a do-you-really-want-to-do-that? look. He decided that keeping his mouth shut was a better idea. I nodded in approval.

We took a few steps, breaking through the forest and into a clearing. A black road was laid out before us. A red car sped by, and my hair and jacket flowed with the wind. Our eyes caught sight of a dark blue sign.

"Mystic Falls," I read the white lettering of the sign.

"Shit," Jace muttered. I gave him a confused look.

"What?"

"We're in over our heads," he said, not taking his eyes off the town resting in front of us.

"What do you mean?"

"This is Mystic Falls, Ada. This is the mother town for all vampires," Jace said. "And I _hate_ vampires."


End file.
